


The Lovers of Valdaro

by runningwater



Series: Feysand Things [13]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Italy, One Shot, The Lovers of Valdaro, archeology, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwater/pseuds/runningwater
Summary: Feyre is visiting the Lovers of Valdaro in Italy and decides to do an artist rendition of the couple. Rhys is an aspiring archaeologist who sees her drawing.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Things [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607200
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	The Lovers of Valdaro

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh ok so I saw a tiktok of someone taking the Lovers of Valdaro and doing an artist rendition of what they looked like when the died (here’s the link if anyone wants to watch the video: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJk5v41E/ ) AND I DAMN NEAR CRIED over this 6000 year old couple. So! I thought it would be cute to see Feyre’s and Rhys’s take on them.   
> Here’s the wiki link to the Lovers: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lovers_of_Valdaro

The buzz of the museum had faded into the background. Crowds swirled around me, all vying for a spot to look at my current focus of attention. Most took a quick photo or selfie and then moved on, not bothering to read the historical description below. Some paused after their picture, scanning the paragraphs typed in several languages below the exhibit.

Gli Innamorati di Valdaro.

Les Amoureux de Valdaro.

The Lovers of Valdaro.

My trip to Italy had been a surprise. As Assistant Art Curator at the Museum of Modern Arts of Velaris, it was rare for me to travel, usually left to Alis, the Head Curator. I had been working this job for almost five years and loved every second of it, even the late nights and impossible clients. A new seller had reached out to us and insisted on us sending a representative to negotiate the deal.

_“You’ve never been to Europe?” Alis exclaimed, looking at me with shock as she peered at me over her computer screen._

_I ducked my head and gave an awkward shrug, “My family never had the money for a trip and when I finally started earning money, there was always something else that I could do with the excess.” Art supplies, weekend trips down the coast with friends, sometimes to see my sisters when we weren’t in a fight._

_“You do have a passport, at least?” she had started to furiously type on her computer._

_“Yes… for when I need to go to Hybern on occasion,”_ to visit my mother, _I added silently. An experience I limited to only when she called me crying in a hysterical breakdown._

_“Good, pack your bags, you leave on Tuesday.”_

_Now it was my turn to sputter and exclaim. “You can’t be serious! I—I’m not—.”_

_“You are perfectly qualified and you’re going,” she cut me off, “I’m emailing you your flight information now.”_

And that had been that. Four days later I was on a very long plane ride and stepping onto Italian soil.

Even with the midday heat, I was completely enchanted with the local architecture and culture. It was a Cauldron-damned miracle I was on time to my meetings with the seller. Everywhere I walked, there was so much to see and stop and sketch. The city of Mantua was a gorgeous combination of modern sensibilities and historical charm.

The deal had been sealed yesterday at dinner. The seller finally satisfied with the price and insisted I stay one more day to explore the city in peace on the condition I took a trip to the Palazzo Ducale di Mantova museum. He had changed my flight and extended my hotel stayat his own expense.

Like the rest of the city, the museum and the palace it was attached to was captivating. Already half of the day had gone by and I still hadn’t left the building with no intention of doing so anytime soon.

The Lovers were… old. Really old. Over 6,000 years archeologists estimated. Their once young bodies reduced to dry bones and dust and half-buried in the dirt. But even with the millennia separating us, the emotion was still there.

When they were buried, they weren’t even twenty. Young by modern-day standards. It was still unknown how they died. Not by violence, the archeologists were sure of that by the lack of trauma on the bodies.

I had intended to visit the exhibit and then grab a quick lunch but something about their entwined bodies had my pulling out my sketchpad and squeezing into a spot on a nearby bench. For almost an hour, I had sat there, gazing at the pair and absorbing every detail as my pencil flew across the paper.

I imagined the man on the left to be touching the woman’s face in a gesture of comfort while she wrapped her arm around him. A final touch of between lovers as they were buried far from the reach of the sun.

Tears pricked my eyes as I finished my rough sketch. Ridiculous to by crying over a couple that died thousands of years ago but the gentle love I had drawn on their faces pulled on something deep inside of me.

“The man’s jawline needs to be more pronounced.”

I jumped, hastily wiping away the single tear that had escaped. “What?” my voice came out startled and rough, peering at the source of the words.

“Sorry,” the man leaned back a bit, his eyes darting around my face before dropping to the ground. “I saw your drawing and I’m an archeologist and…” and trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh,” I flushed, turning back to the sketch and making the adjustment. “Thank you,” I glanced back up at him, taking in the details this time. He was tall with messily tousled blue-black hair like he had been running his fingers through it. Despite the heat outside, he was in black trousers and a light blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, showing off his golden tan. “Do you work here?” trying to make conversation after our awkward beginning.

He looked back at me again and with a jolt, I realized his eyes were so blue they were almost violet. I _also_ realized he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and he caught me crying over a pair of skeletons. “Um, no, I don’t. I’m here on an educational trip.”

I gestured to the empty spot beside me and he took the offer. Space was still limited so we were pressed all along my left side. I could feel the lean muscles shifting beneath his clothing as he tried not to touch me too much. After all, we had just met.

“I’m Rhys,” he said, now gazing at The Valdaro Lovers, his eyes darting over them as mine had done.

“I’m Feyre. Any other pointers you can give me? I’m not an expert on ancient human anatomy.”

He glanced back down at my sketch, taking in the details. I usually didn’t want strangers seeing my art, but if he could help me perfect the drawing, maybe I could paint it when I get back to Velaris.

“No, you’ve actually done an amazing job,” he murmured. “If you look closely, you can see that the female had a flint blade along her thigh and two flint knives under her pelvis. It was initially thought that they had died from violence but there was no trauma on the body, so they are most likely ceremonial pieces.”

“Ah, yeah, I read about that,” I gestured to the informational plaque, hoping that I didn’t come off too know-it-all. “I put them in… here,” pointing to the sharper lines of the drawing.

Rhys only gave me a nod, his eyes flicking up to meet mine again. I forced myself to hold his intense gaze, not allowing myself to look away. “Usually, Neolithic buries where singular, but for some reason,” he looked away to couple again, “These two were buried together in an intimate position, allowing their love to transcend the boundaries of death.”

“So you see it too,” I found myself saying, “The love that is still there.” He looked back and we held each other’s gaze again. His eyes had light gray flecks in them that looked like stars in a violet universe. Black lashes framed them, drawing even more attention to their uniqueness. Heat rushed to my face and I had to break the stare this time, distracting myself by pulling out my colored pencils to start bringing the drawing to even more life.

I could still feel the weight of his look before he cleared his throat and shifted, once again watching at my hands as they flew across the page. We sat there for a few minutes, watching as color bloomed beneath my strokes.

“What brings you to Italy, Feyre?” his low voice broke the silence.

“Work. I’m an art curator for the Velaris MOMA and we had a seller here.”

“Wow, do you get to travel a lot?”

“No, not usually. My boss, Alis, usually travels for the acquisitions but she found out I had never been to Europe and insisted I go,” still focused on the drawing so I wouldn’t get lost in his eyes.

“First time in Europe? How are you liking it?”

“I love it,” I admitted, flicking my eyes up to study his face before looking down again. “The architecture is amazing, and the parks are beautiful. And the food,” I paused with a laugh, “The food makes me never want to return to Prythian.” He laughed along with me, a deep, rich sound.

“That I can agree to.”

“You live in Prythian, too?” I asked, surprised.

“Believe it or not, I actually live in Velaris, too,” he said with a smile in my direction.

“Small world,” I chuckled, a small part of me screaming with excitement that this handsome man lives in the same city as me. “You said you were an archeologist?”

“Well, almost. I finished my masters last year and took a gap year before considering getting my doctorate. Right now, I’m working with a small group of researchers and we came to northern Italy to examine the tombs.”

“It sounds like a good time,” I angled the drawing towards him, “What do you think?” I asked quietly.

He took one _long_ minute to absorb it, his eyes slowly roving over the paper before meeting mine. “I think you captured them perfectly.” Silver lined his eyes then, apparently he was as much as a romantic as I was.

“Thank you,” I whispered, unsure of what to do next. I didn’t want to let him go, but our time was at an end. My drawing was finished and he no longer had a reason to stay.

It was then that my stomach let out a loud growl.

I flushed as he let out a startled laugh. I managed to chuckle along with him, cursing my stomach silently.

“Do you…” he hesitated, looking off into the distance, “Do you want to grab lunch with me?” Uncertainty written across his face.

I managed to find my tongue, “I’d love to,” and started packing up my supplies. We both stood at the same time and I swung my bag over my shoulder. “Lead the way,” I said with a smile.

He returned my smile and offered his hand. I slipped my own in, it fitting perfectly against his. We started to weave through the crowd and just before we left the massive room, I glanced over my shoulder for a final look at The Lovers of Valdaro, wondering if I had found a love that would last thousands of years.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t judge my translations, I got them from Google.


End file.
